


The Road to Hell

by Luci_A_Fucking_Satanic_Gay_Goose



Category: Cry Baby - Melanie Martinez (Album), K-12 (Movie 2019), Melanie Martinez (Musician)
Genre: A story about Mel's music, Hope you enjoy, Including the extra clutter songs, and K-12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24555400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luci_A_Fucking_Satanic_Gay_Goose/pseuds/Luci_A_Fucking_Satanic_Gay_Goose
Summary: It's been one long road, a road filled with problems and grief and sadness. I manage to pull through it all, I always do. It's not like that's a good thing though, I just wake up to the same hell everyday. Maybe I can share that hell with you.
Relationships: Crybaby/Alphabet Boy, Crybaby/Ben, Crybaby/Blue boy, Crybaby/Johnny, Crybaby/Leo
Kudos: 3





	1. Crybaby

I don't remember much from when I was very little but I do remember my days in nursery. It was my first day and I was of course terrified, who wouldn't be? My mother managed to hide the fact that she was wasted pretty well, smiling at all the ladies who were looking after the other children, making small talk with the other mothers who were dropping their spoiled brats off there. She didn't say goodbye to me, she just left so she could go sip the booze from her bottle in peace. I sat alone in the corner of the room alone and scared. I hated this new environment, I wanted to go home even if it meant I had to listen to my mother sob drunken tears onto the bathroom floor. I preferred that over this nightmare any day. Then one girl came up to me, I don't remember her name.

"Why are you sitting alone?" she had asked, staring at me in complete confusion.

I didn't respond to her, I could feel the tears already brimming. They ran down my face and fell onto my hands. I looked down at them as they then trickled down off my skin then onto the floor beneath me.

"Why are you crying?" the girl said, frowning at me.

I shook my head, wanting her to go away, to leave me alone. She didn't though and just stood there, waiting for me to speak. She was getting impatient.

"Rude," she said before finally stomping away.

So I was alone again, crying quietly to myself. After a few minutes, one of the workers came up to me, frowning.

"Stop crying," she said to me, her voice sounded dangerous.

I tried my hardest to wipe my tears away but like a waterfall they kept on flowing. It was as if someone had turned on a tap in my eyes and left it like that, spilling all the water everywhere.

"Oh, don't be such a crybaby!" she said, before slapping me hard in the face. I looked up at her in shock, my tears stopping instantly," see, it wasn't that hard!"

Behind her, all the other children were giggling, laughing at me and my stupidity. They were laughing at my tears, my god damn tears. From that day on, they all called me a crybaby and I had no friends. No one wanted to play games with me. I didn't need them though, I had my dollhouse at home.


	2. Dollhouse

I spent most of my childhood with my family. I didn't really want to but I was never allowed to leave the house without my parents and anyways, I had no friends to hang out with. When we're in public we're a happy family, laughing, joking, smiling, shiny. When we're at home it's a little bit different. We don't usually talk to each other, we just go about our day without saying a word. Even at dinner, we eat in silence. Sometimes my mother isn't even awake to eat with us, sometimes my dad is too busy to come home and sometimes my brother is too high to make his way down the stairs. Sometimes I have to make my own dinner. It's never been too bad though, I just now more than everyone else. I know that my mother's liver is dying, I know that my dad is a cheating bastard, I know that my brother has bags of weed in hidden in his closet. I just keep my mouth shut. People all around me talk about how lovely my family looked, how perfect we all were together. Some people are a little jealous even though they have no reason to be, these are the bullies. The ones that like to taunt me with my name, my emotions, my supposed perfection. It makes me fucking hate them, I hate them all. My parents, my brother, all the other kids. They have ruined my childhood. There were nights where I was sure my mother wasn't going to get up, where my dad would never get back, where my brother would drop dead from the drugs. I would just play with my dollhouse, putting all the shiny, plastic barbies into the same situation. I always wonder how they would feel if they were real. If Barbie actually discovered Ken fucking another woman, what would she do? Would she drink until she couldn't stand up or would she do something about it? If she were anything like my mother, she'd pass out halfway up the stairs. Kinda depressing to think about that but it's all that's on my mind. I remember our last photo shoot, when I had to have my picture taken with my brother, he pinched me the entire time, trying to get me to cry. I did, earning me a small slap in the face from my mother. How I wanted to tear him apart that day. He only finds ways to torture me and I hate him for it. It doesn't matter though, I can't say anything. I'm just a little kid, playing with her toys, I don't know anything. They're all so wrong.


End file.
